


isn't it strange, we've never changed

by folignos



Category: Hockey RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folignos/pseuds/folignos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth wakes up the morning after winning the Stanley Cup with a hangover and someone else in his head.</p><p>[the soulbond au that no one asked for]</p>
            </blockquote>





	isn't it strange, we've never changed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shihadchick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shihadchick/gifts).



> the june edition of the flash fic exchange, and the first mildly creative words i've written in about six weeks. enjoy!
> 
> i might play in this sandbox again. might. idk when this is set, but let's go for like, june 2018. that's far enough in the future i don't have to worry about jinxing anything.
> 
> title from the kinks' rock and roll fantasy.

Seth wakes up the morning after winning the Stanley Cup with a hangover and someone else in his head.

He thinks at first he’s still drunk, because that’s the only explanation he can think of for the weird feedback loop echoing his own nausea back at himself, until he realises that it’s being _pushed_ at him with a wave of mustard yellow and disgust, which-- he’s never felt things in colour before, but he’s also never been this hungover before.

_Me neither,_ his brain says, and Seth’s eyes open, because he knows that voice.

‘Did I go crazy overnight?’ he asks his bedroom. The next room over there’s a groan that sounds like it might be Saader surfacing from a coma.

_If you’re crazy, I might be crazy too_ , Murrs’ voice in his brain says. _Or I’m still just really, REALLY drunk._

Seth opens his mouth to respond and then thinks about it.

_We did get really, really drunk last night,_ he thinks, carefully.

_Fuckin’ Stanley Cup_ , Murrs crows. _We fuckin’ earnt it._

Seth grins, even though it makes his skull hurt. His phone rings suddenly, piercing. There’s a thud on the wall that means Saader’s probably thrown something at it.

‘Thinking was making my head hurt,’ Murrs says, when Seth picks up.

‘What else is new?’ Seth says, automatically, and regrets it immediately, when Murrs pushes a wall of violent colour at him that makes his ears ring.

‘Wait,’ Seth says. ‘You called me.’

‘Uh, yeah?’ Murrs says. ‘Is thinking making your head hurt too or something?’

‘No, I mean--’ Seth pauses.’I thought I was imagining you.’

‘Do you imagine me in your head a lot?’ Murrs teases.

Seth doesn’t answer that out loud, but he gets a flicker of pale orange from Murrs’. Surprise, he thinks.

‘You’re really in my head,’ Seth says. ‘This isn’t like, some weird hangover thing.’

‘How many hangovers have made you hear voices?’ Murrs asks.

‘When I turned twenty one, Webs got me so drunk I thought I could hear colours and see sound,’ Seth admits. ‘I was hungover for like three days.’

‘Well,’ Murrs says. ‘This isn’t that.’

‘No,’ Seth says slowly. ‘What is it?’

Murrs laughs. ‘Did you not have soulbonds in Nashville?’

‘I’m gonna need coffee,’ Seth says, slowly.

-

Seth makes it out of bed, into sweatpants and out of the apartment. All signs of life from Saader’s room have vanished. Seth hopes he’s still alive, but values his own life too much to wake him up and check.

Boone opens the door when Seth turns up at Murrs’ apartment. He looks depressingly awake and not at all hungover.

‘I hate you,’ Seth says. Boone grins and gathers him up in a huge hug. 

‘You’re a fuckin’ liar, Jonesy,’ he says. ‘And you know why?’

‘Why?’ Seth asks, following him into the kitchen.

‘Because I have this,’ Boone says, handing over the biggest mug of coffee Seth has ever seen. It’s frothy and steaming and smells faintly of cinnamon. Seth briefly considers proposing.

‘You’re welcome,’ Boone says, smug.

‘Where’s Murrs?’ Seth asks, sticking his nose into the mug and inhaling deeply.

‘Showering. He smells like a dead person.’

Seth hums, and takes a sip of coffee. It’s perfect. He reconsiders his proposal.

_Don’t marry Boone, he makes a good cup of coffee but he’s allergic to the courtesy flush_ , Murrs says, and Seth nearly drops his coffee. He’d started to forget what it was like having Murrs in his head a little bit.

_Keep drinking the coffee_ , Murrs says. _Two hangovers in the same space is killing me._

Seth obligingly takes another mouthful.

‘You two are talking right now, aren’t you?’ Boone asks. Seth frowns.

‘How can you tell?’

‘You look kind of constipated. How Cam looks when he’s talking to Joey.’

‘I don’t look _constipated_ ,’ Seth protests, but he thinks about how Cam zones out in meetings, or at dinner, and the whole team chirps him for it. He wonders if that's his future now.

Boone just smirks, and steps into his shoes. ‘I’m going to go hang out with Prouter. He’s less embarrassing than you two losers.’

‘I heard that!’ Murrs shouts from the bathroom.

Boone laughs his way out of the front door, and Seth is alone in their kitchen. It’s not an unfamiliar place at all. Seth’s mama made sure he could feed himself before she moved out after his rookie season, and when he’d come to Columbus, Boone and Murrs had found out he could cook and invited him round for dinner. _Invited you round to make dinner_ , Murrs interjects, with a gentle wash of lilac that might be amusement.

_Do you always think in colours_? Seth asks, opening a cupboard to put the sugar away.

‘What do you mean?’ Murrs asks, from the doorway. Seth gets that flash of orange again.

He shrugs. ‘You’re like-- when you’re surprised, you sound orange. When you’re happy, you’re all pink. It’s cute.’

‘Shut up,’ Murrs grumbles, but he sounds pink again, with a little bit of darker red mixed in. Seth slides the second mug of coffee along the counter towards him, and Murrs falls on it like a dying man.

Seth waits for him to finish the whole mug before asking, ‘So. Soulbonds.’

‘Soulbonds,’ Murrs agrees. ‘I’m as surprised as you are,’ he adds. ‘I figured if we were going to bond, we would have done it after our first season together.’

Seth hums. He looks at the dregs of his coffee. ‘What happens now then?’

‘We register it with the team. Go through a physical.’ Murrs gives him a smile. ‘Nothing changes, man. Except now you have a direct link to chew me out when I turn the puck over.’

Seth laughs, despite himself. ‘Nothing changes?’

‘Nothing at all.’

Seth nods. ‘Good,’ he says. ‘Things are-- good like they are.’

‘Agreed,’ Murrs says, and clinks his empty coffee cup against Seth’s. ‘Wanna go get breakfast? I would make you cook but there’s nothing in our fridge except more beer.’

‘Please, god, no more beer ever,’ Seth faux-begs, and Murrs tips his head back in laughter. It echoes down the bond too, purple ripples that pass right through Seth and make him want to laugh too. It’s going to take some getting used to, he thinks. But being bonded to Murrs isn’t the worst thing that could have happened.


End file.
